In the meantime, I AM THAT I AM returned and became spirit again.
“Both of the Feursteins, Jon and Nancy, had to be admitted to separate wards at the Carmelite Sisters’ ‘Home for the Sons and Daughters of St. Dymphna‘,” he said. “They will get together for counseling every day. They will go home in a few months. The Carmelite Sisters are very holy and sweet, and they take in everyone, even those without insurance, for they have many wealthy benefactors. Both had to be put under restraints or else hurt themselves.
“But these Sisters do miracles for their clientele and so they will recover quickly and without regression,” said I AM THAT I AM. “When they are well, they promised to come and visit us and get Jesus’ blessing. That is what is seeing them through: the chance to see Jesus in the flesh. They have seen me and marveled. That got them through the rest of the night. I must go now – another galaxy needs me. Till we meet again, dear Roshinah. Hold on to this menorah, my love.” A beautiful hand sized golden menorah was suddenly in Roshinah’s hands. And then I AM THAT I AM’s shining cloud disappeared, leaving only the Burning Bush.
No, God was not punishing Jesus as he carried that cross down the Via Dolorosa – nor is He punishing you when you suffer.
Punishment from God is for the afterlife only.
Don’t complain; but also do not keep others from knowing how you suffer and how you get through it; for it is of help to them.
The only way people will know that you gave from the bottom of your heart is when you get nothing for it.
If someone steals from you, pray for them, for Mammon is a monster of a demon.
Peace comes from having given; money is never enough.
Jesus said not to ask for something back when someone takes from you; so when facing Death, it is a good time just to let go.
The burden is on the robber, not the victim.
What will you do when you have stolen from someone and they die before you give it back? Then you can never make amends…
Lies can save your neck from the authorities, but not God…
I AM THAT I AM never was a Jew; he was, is and always will be the God of all mankind.
To be haunted on Earth is hard to bear; but it will be the only emotion you will know in Hell.
God shows his most hideous side in Hell; if you want to see his beauty, don’t go there.
If you feel as if the pain is so bad that you will die, baptize yourself, and rest easy – a good reason to be a legal minister.
Every time you sin you make a choice for Hell.
Would you like it if someone just took your paycheck, no matter how little you did to achieve it?
When you take a person’s hard-earned money, you make all their choices; and free will is a hard thing to lose.
Just because you think someone will spend unwisely doesn’t mean you should take their paycheck.
How can you see a starving person and snatch all their money from them when you have a pot belly?
When you know you have reduced someone to eating free food while you stuff yourself, you know you have gone wrong.
Money is nice to have, even if you are dying.
Most people like to share because it feels good; so if you ask, you can be sure someone will help you.
How can you justify stealing from someone who cannot pay their bills?
If you don’t give to your family, how can you justify giving to perfect strangers?
Every dying person has the right to give his money to whomever he pleases.
No one knows when he is going to die – not even if it seems obvious.
Even the dying have expenses.
You may be able to talk the police into getting away with crime, but you cannot out-argue Jesus.
Yes, Jesus can hate people who harm others – and all you will get from him is hate until you pay the last farthing.
Yes, Jesus kills – anything to protect those who have given him both their lives and their deaths.
At first, Jesus’ Wrath is Love – later, when nothing is done to wreak justice, His Wrath is pure hatred.
To be hated by God should be enough to make you give up sin.
Everyone wants to think that God is on their side.
If you have power that you can only use to help others, go ahead and use it – you will have your reward someday.
Just to know that others are alright can be enough for the magi, as it was for the Three Wise Men, who saved Christianity.
The gift of life brings joy and peace to the giver, and that joy and peace is all the giver really wants.
If you use your power for love, God will give you more power.
When doctors can do nothing for you, accept it and let God decide your fate.
As long as you can still stand and sit, you do not need to be bedridden.
It is the patient who really knows when Death is imminent.
Wait on God, and rescue the sick when they ask for help, not when the doctor thinks so.
Let only the final days be in a hospital, especially if the patient is still able to give love to the world.
Why close up a patient in a hospital when he is still able to give love and help to this miserable world? Is that not selfish?
If you can make people smile, your death will be beautiful.
Prayer is more powerful than anything a doctor can do.
Only the patient knows when his affliction is too much to bear.
If you are already watching someone’s every move, you should be able to see when the final days are here – then, make a move.
An appetite is a sign of health – so wait until that desire goes away before considering a patient moribund.
Mental hospitals are not Homes for the Dying – already depressed patients might not be able to take it.
A person’s insurance might run out if you put him into a hospital too soon – and then he would have to die at home anyway.
You never know – it might take years for someone to die – so don’t cross them off too soon.
You may want someone dead – but that is up to God.
If you keep trying to drive someone who has never harmed you crazy, you will spend Eternity in a state of crisis.
If police officers are not ethical, I don’t know who is.
Your “arms are too short to box” with the Law.
My father was a cop; anyone who would dare stain his reputation would have the stain thrown back in their faces.
One day, lies will go extinct – and what a happy day!
With the extinction of lies will go the extinction of liars.
Even unclean spirits tell the truth.
Even Satan only torments people with the truth about their sins.
Even my spiritual director said that if magic works, use it – if it is instructive and/or constructive.
Magic is as old as the hills, and is in practically every culture and will never die, just like prayer.
Some people call transubstantiation magic.
My spiritual director even found no harm in my being in a coven.
I know everything is alright if my spiritual director does not call.
Note to the Reader: Would you take a man who was away from you for years with another woman? Who wants a secondhand man? Madame Butterfly didn’t. She was so dishonored by what happened that she left him their son and killed herself. I will never kill myself because I have the strength to say “No” with no pain at all, because I got over him years ago and I don’t want him anymore. Now I am taken, quite happily, and nothing will change my mind. I will not be an adulteress, for I can guess at the evil that would be.
As long as it is not you lying, you don’t have to worry, just pray for a deluded, depraved soul.
The Truth always sells better than lies – Jesus is the Truth, and look at how well he sells!
No one who loves you truly would lie about you to others – those who hate and envy do.
Don’t ever complain about God or blame him – and he will return the favor.
After awhile of your sinning, God will finally let go of you and give you your choice: Hell.
If you beg God to go to Heaven, and you still are not quite perfect, Purgatory will be sweet and brief.
If your exaltation over God is great enough, and all you say magnifies him, all you write and do, he will not even glance at your sins.
If someone talks you out of a friend, you are missing out on an entire universe of possibilities.
Christ came with a sword to divide: so whom will you keep and whom will you let go of?
To scorn someone because of his sickness is slapping God in the face.
I AM THAT I AM reappeared and rushed to his wife’s side.
“I know your agony in waking up this morning, and soon I will release you from it into the bliss of Heaven,” said I AM tenderly. “When the clock strikes six, baptize yourself and pray every prayer you know and you will be vindicated. You will not have to baptize yourself again. Roshinah, be at peace, for you have not done anything against My Will. I want you to die here in the Mount Sinai Anchorhold alone, in deep solitude with only the powers of Heaven, Purgatory and Hell. I myself will protect you from your foes who want to hospitalize you. You need no man but me – but then you also have Jesus and all the prophets, Satan and his legion. You may have no friends on Earth; but you are beloved of these three realms, for you have saved so many lives. Use your miracles until you drop from exhaustion to save and heal and fight crime – for it goes on in places people never suspect. You are clean and fresh; just put on lotion and oil and you will smell wonderful. Use that perfume as well. There is no need for soap.
“There is nothing you did that you did not have to do,” said I AM. “Withdraw from the World and the Flesh; ignore any comments from your neighbors. I will be there when you die, when Jesus smites you; and when you wake up, you will wake up in Paradise. Love like you have never known is coming to you. Bear the pain a little longer and soon you will forget all about it. Try to say nothing but in prayer; pray when the mood hits you. I adore your Divine Praises, and I want you to write more. You will know when you are finished with Planet Earth – and you will go like a sigh.
“Do you feel the pain abating?” asked I AM THAT I AM.
“Yes, I feel much better; indeed, I feel no pain but in the skin on my calves,” smiled Roshinah. “All that skin needs is lotion.”
“That is right,” said I AM. “Your scalp itches because it needs moisture and because the hair is growing rapidly. Comb it often to stimulate the scalp and weed out the weak hairs.”
I AM THAT I AM is so powerful that although He calls himself the God of Abraham, He belongs in all religions.
I AM THAT I AM accepts that there other Gods, even Goddesses; but He makes us realize that He is far above them all.
I AM THAT I AM is whatever you need Him to be, for He is in every living creature.
I AM THAT I AM is Spirit, that he might be everywhere; and so he disdains graven images and idols, for they cannot even think.
Insects are alien beings, come to destroy the human race – and so comes the Ice Age, to wipe them off the face of the Earth.
Human beings must prove themselves better than insects to survive the Ice Age – and that should mean a cessation of warfare.
Saints, indeed everybody, are made by God, not by man, and so no man can change anything about anyone else – that is free will.
If you go to Hell, by the time you get out, and you will one day, you will be a saint.
Why waste time and suffering in Hell, rather than lead a life of virtue on Earth, and go straight to Heaven?
Hell and Purgatory are expensive for God – so he is especially grateful when souls go straight to Heaven.
Only saints can get into Heaven – earn it today – you can, in hardly any time flat.
If you are a criminal, jail is a wonderful place to earn sanctity.
If you are mentally ill, you will probably be released as a saint, what with all the suffering you have been through.
If you are physically ill, by the time God releases you from the prison of your body, if you do it right, Heaven will come to you.
Be constructive on your deathbed as well as you were in your job – it is a perfect place to write, compose or even draw – do your best.
Mozart wrote his “Requiem Mass” on his deathbed, and learned from the libretto just how he was to achieve Heaven.
Mozart scared himself half to death writing his “Requiem Mass” – it was the fear of God that he put into every melody.
Be like Heaven to everyone you know – and Heaven is where you will go.
Like Jesus, sometimes people love you so much that they would take the risk of yelling at you – like your mother.
Write about those you love – and they will be remembered.
Sometimes people are so naughty that you want to give up on them – but don’t – you might be their only hope.
Be what you want to be – but if you can, even in your job, be a walking, talking Jesus – people need that.
When you are paralyzed, a lot of life goes by without you – but don’t let it.
When all you can do is write, write for the good of others, and your royalties you deserve.
When you are innocent, try not to fight false accusations – for God loves the simple and the innocent.
If you are like Jesus, you will have to deal with fakery, gold digging, threats, and false accusations – open not your mouth.
If you can remain calm and unperturbed in the face of accusations, you are probably innocent – for most criminals love to brag.
The more you have to say, the more you have to hide – thus the silence of Jesus during his Passion.
“Since I already know so much about Roman Catholicism, I will have a seven-week catechism and then be baptized and confirmed,” said the Blessed Virgin Mary, returning in the afternoon after going to the rectory. “I have nothing to confess, because I was freed from Original Sin and sinless all through my life and I have no faults. We can watch the mass on EWTN everyday and watch all the shows we can. That, Roshinah, is how you learned so much, that and the books you were always reading. I realize now that you cannot read now, because you have so much to say. But, please watch the shows with me – it will be enjoyable.”
“Anything for you, Blessed Mother,” said Roshinah, kissing Mary on her cheek. “I treasure this time I have with you. Could I be in the Holy Family?”
“Yes, my dear, I was hoping you would ask,” smiled Mary. “Jesus will make a wonderful brother for you – he needs a sister. Since you are partly Judah, you are a distant relative. We need more family. St. Joseph will be thrilled. As a Guardian of Virgins, he has brought you through without sin many a tight situation. It was he who got those men off of you – because he loves chastity. So, remain faithful to I AM THAT I AM, be the Goddess he needs so badly, and if you are a good wife, perhaps you can have children in Paradise and form a new nation. I AM THAT I AM belongs to no race of human beings; but he is a man. Your children will be beautiful.”
I AM THAT I AM appeared in his human form, blushing and glad. “Children! What a joy that would be! With my little dove! My mighty fortress! How can she be both? But she is – like fresh, sparkling water, like Fresca in her joy, like a Reverend Doctor for fleeting moments, silly one minute, silly and laughing, then serious, showing sorrow and wisdom, then utter happiness – all without mood swings! But then, she is a Goddess, Goddess Ariela I will call her. Now? They have her in ‘prison’ for killing a living woman! I know, I know, crazy!”
And I AM THAT I AM laughed. “But I do not want her to leave her cubiculum anyway, so now she has a double reason. It was me who made it this way, not them. I cooked up the whole scheme, to keep her in my Tender Trap. She is an anchorite, and she must stay in. Roshinah loves it!”
I AM THAT I AM, who was a big guy, picked her up and carried her around, twirling. Roshinah was soon dizzy with laughter and joy. Kissing her tenderly, he put her down on the sofa.
“I am stuck with you, I AM!” cracked up Roshinah. “What if they steal my cigarettes?”
“They won’t,” comforted I AM. “Do you know how much I love you, Roshinah?”
“You are so far beyond me I cannot even guess,” said Roshinah with emotion. “I am smitten of you. I want to stay indoors. Your Will is my will, we are one.”
“Now they want you to go out,” said I AM THAT I AM, in derision. “As long as the woman is alive and well, who cares? How in the world are you supposed to walk? And the whole neighborhood will have to deal with loud gagging noises if you don‘t have cigarettes. You might even vomit and lose your medicine on a regular basis. If you pay for cigarettes, you get them. Why are they punishing you when the woman is alive and you have an alibi? You could not even identify her in a lineup. You gave some doctors a twenty point increase in IQ. Is that not a valuable gift on your part? Work will be easier on them and the patients will benefit. So why punish you? They cannot change the doctor‘s conclusions about your health. You? You are dying. But them? They have nothing to build a case on. No dead body, no case. Nothing for an autopsy. Case closed.”
“She doesn’t know enough people in Trenton to be a widespread threat,” said the Blessed Virgin Mary, Advocate. “They cannot blame her for deaths of perfect strangers. When she leaves the hospital, she tries to forget everyone’s face, remembering no names except the doctors’. Roshinah has always struggled to be confidential. She throws away phone numbers even before she leaves. She makes no friendships or romances. She remembers no last names except the doctors’; and among them, no first names. Roshinah could be in no ordinary job, because she has dementia, according to her medical doctor. She is in pain and fading fast. Let her have some peace in her last days.”
“No, no,” said Jesus sharply. “Let Roshinah be surrounded by hatred and strife, to see if she can bear it. I say to the Church Triumphant, leave her for now, and leave her at the mouths of her neighbors. If she loses, she will be a minor saint; if she wins, a Great One of Christ. She is not a Roman Catholic, but a Roman Catholic Ascensionist Master, a whole new religion, of which I approve. Anything in the JudeoChristian ethic is permissible. You will, with hope, get a file of the book about it that you wrote and add much more – because you have grown in wisdom and knowledge since.”
If a country does not give you your basic rights, that country has taken away your citizenship.
You must abide by the laws of your country to be even a Follower of Christ.
When a crime is done by an individual, he gets punished; when the whole world does it, they always seem to get off the hook.
The victim, especially if he keeps the laws of his country, always goes to Heaven – his enemies go to Hell, even if it is an entire generation.
If the whole world decides that one person has no rights, the whole world is guilty.
There is no peace if even one person has no rights.
Note to the Reader: Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King Jr. said that the greatest right an American has is the right to protest for rights – and I believe that if they are suppressed, this country is no longer America, but a totalitarian state. Why choose one person to take away all rights from, when, for the most part, the worst “crime” they commit is to protest for rights? Rights should not be privileges; they should be automatic, if you are born in a country that is supposed to guarantee them.
Perhaps Mother Teresa of Calcutta liked being on stage, but not I. I hate it. I want full privacy and my royalties from the sales of my books in total, and the freedom to spend the money exactly as I please. I do not want to be a star or a celebrity; I want God on display, in the public eye, not me.
I am tired of trifling comments that are constantly being made. I am a religious, and I want to be completely enclosed and shut away from prying eyes. How dare people make decisions for me when they are perfect strangers?
All they are is power-hungry gold diggers. They think I am going down in history, and they cling to me so they will as well. The authorities do not defend me, because they say I have no friends, and because they do not believe in God. It was God who sold the books, no human being can take credit. It is God’s project, not theirs. All the gold-diggers did was lie about me to sell books; lies get everyone nowhere but Hell.
Someone stole my royalties right out of my mailbox. What is my conclusion? Christ said that if someone takes away your goods, do not ask for them back, even if you are living in grinding poverty. So, if they are that unethical, I do not care what happens to the money, as long as my message to the people gets out into the public. But I? I want no attention put on myself. I am just a mouthpiece; I have lost self in the Ocean of God’s Love. I yelled at them as Christ would have yelled at them, so that I could be like Him and lose my singing voice, for it does nothing but attract men.
If they want the money so badly as to break the Ten Commandments to get it, let them keep it – I won’t ever have to meet them, for I am doing the Lord’s Will, and I will go to Heaven for it. If they give me a trifling amount in installments, I am Bob Kratchett and they are Scrooge. Unlike Scrooge, they will not get out of Hell. And I, like Bob Kratchett will go straight to Highest Heaven, for laboring like an animal, for the Lord Himself, and getting hardly anything in return. And if I get nothing at all, which is what I believe, I will continue to write for the Lord as a volunteer and be thrice blest.
I am not going to Hell for breaking my vows, no matter what temptations they send my way. I will not cheat on I AM THAT I AM, not for any man in the world. I will not be an adulteress. I will go to my Death before I cheat on God. There is nothing left to say.
The thief tried to make good with his conscience by selling more books with the money; but money makes no difference at all if the Lord Himself is not doing the work. The thief was trying to buy Heaven, but he would get nowhere. You cannot buy someone’s free will; and free will is what sells books. Only God makes anything successful. So “selling” books would not get that thief off the hook, only time in jail.
Taking someone’s paycheck is tantamount to murder, no less. And that is what the thief should do, serve time in jail for murder. Anyone who was practically losing their life to a thief’s selfishness should have the right to protest for their rights. But it was holier by far not to; and so, the robbed one gives in and just allows the crime against him. No more warnings, no more revenge, no more anger, not even lessons taught. Just acceptance.
Peace is accepting slights, no matter how large or small.
“You are on your Via Dolorosa now,” said Jesus. “What difference would money make now? Simply by giving it up, you are free of dealing with Mammon, which is the demon the ones who took it from you will. Take any insult, crime, insult against you, and especially, temptation, and you will go to the Heaven of Heavens. Can you imagine how much treasure you have in Heaven just by letting go of your paycheck?
No, you will never see bigtime sinners, for the part of Heaven you are going to is shut off from them. You will see no one but the great saints. You have started a new religion; let others make it work. You can supervise from Heaven. You don’t have to be Roman Catholic to get into Heaven – just take what comes from my hand with equanimity and acceptance, and one day you will be at peace. I have been working hard – and now I have outdone I AM THAT I AM. Please take me back as your spouse – he finds you delightful, but I am in love with you. Can you do that?” Jesus was trembling with emotion.
“Oh Jesus – it is not your power but your words, your Presence, your humility that I loved, and even the trials you put me through,” said Mary Tabfa. “I accept you back. I thought you had enough women, and that I was not your spouse because no religious house accepted me.”
“But your spiritual director and the bishop did,” said Jesus. “You need not worry that I do not want you as my spouse. Now, you can have all the female friends you want to in Heaven. I know you love them. We will have all the time we want together; learn to share.”
“Alright, alright,” said Mary Tabfa, weeping with emotion. “I take you back. I know that you are I AM THAT I AM; you just separate from time to time. So, I have not committed adultery. Phew!” and Tabfa blew her nose.
“You are dying, Tabfa, from cardio-vascular disease, sarcoidosis, and psoriatic arthritis,” wept Jesus. “That is why you wake up in agony every morning; that is why you feel so awful. You eat just to please God, not because you are hungry. You are holding on. You are not fat, just swollen with water. You are not drinking too much; only as much as anyone should. Since your life has been bitter, your Death will be sweet.” Jesus covered her hands with kisses. “I will see to it that you die at home in comfort. When you leave the nest, it will be the happiest day of your life.”
Note to the Reader: The mystery of who Christ is astonishes and leaves confused even the greatest minds of Christianity. Emmanuel? I AM THAT I AM? The Messiah? The Prince of Peace? The Lamb of God? Jehovah? Yahweh? Allah? He overlaps with the Father and the Holy Spirit, and is one and the same with them, and yet distinct. Nobody on Earth has ever really known. Does it matter? Not while we are on Earth. We must simply try to follow Christ and one day in Heaven all will be cleared up.
“You see?” smiled Jesus. “I sent you a friend, a good friend. Share with her anything you have. Pray for her. Pam will not let you down. I know that you were in agony yesterday and could hardly move out of your bed. Flat on your back was the best position; and yet to get out of it, you were afraid of falling. Pam will not let that keep her away. Trust her. Others have tried to break you apart, fill your mind with suspicious nonsense. You said you would be another kitten for Pam, and she takes that seriously. She will bring back cola! Boys, I did it again! Pam knows now that Tabfa is enclosed and she accepts that. Tabfa will feed Pam’s cats until they must go and then take their place in Pam’s life. And soon, they will be able to talk on the phone again as well! Lechaim, Tabfa!”
“Tabfa cried over Pam’s love and generosity just a little bit, because a little bit to her is the world now,” said St. Therese of Lisieux. “A meal even! Something she would want to eat. Pam will braid Tabfa’s hair; and Tabfa will give her a few cigarettes and money for the cats. When Tabfa gets her big check, she could even spare Pam a pack, which would last a long time. Tabfa loves to give and see the reaction on the faces of the ones she gives to.”
“Why doesn’t Tabfa go to the emergency room about the pain?” asked a curiosity seeker.
“They would give her Morphine and she would be in a hopeless daze,” said the Blessed Virgin Mary. “She would rather suffer than be that way. She wants to finish this book.”
“Yes – even in the movie ‘Fried Green Tomatoes’, Ruth gave up Morphine at the end so she could think,” said another curiosity seeker. “So, Tabfa takes up her cross and follows Jesus. Her agony will cover all her sins, and she will never sin again. This is her sanctification.”
“Does she have skin cancer?” asked the first curiosity seeker.
“Yes,” said Jesus. “The agony is not just the psoriatic arthritis, and sarcoidosis does not usually cause pain. But metastization does cause pain. Her white corpuscles are attacking the cancer cells, but her immunity is low. Tabfa is feverish as a result. Sonia of PACT was right – the others were covering it up so as not to alarm Tabfa. Nothing can be done by doctors – and I want her in Heaven soon so that she can be of even greater service to mankind. Tabfa already is a prodigy of miracles, being a Goddess – think of what she could do if everyone went to her in prayer! Besides, she has suffered terribly on Earth and deserves to rest for awhile. Then the miracles will start again. Her heartbreak is losing Pam – but she will watch over her and make sure Pam is doing splendidly. Only the Father knows when she will die, not I. I end life when he tells me to do it. As long as she has Pam, her last days will be happy ones. Tabfa will be bedridden soon and needs help. She will get it somehow. I will keep her and her mattresses fresh and clean so there will be no bad odors. All her urine now is just water, pigment and a scent unknown on Earth, but common in Paradise, pyxie flowers. They do not attract insects. But she needs a new bed that will cut down on the pain. As I said before, no hospital or doctor can help. It is too late now, and it was too late the last time she went to a doctor.”
Reverend Doctors have at least twice the power of doctors, because not only do they have degrees but God as well.
When your degrees are authenticated by the government, they are many times more valid than those you get from a university.
Who cares about Rome? Anyone with a degree in theology is a Doctor of one church or another – his own.
Two degrees in theology? – a double Doctor of his Church.
Note to the Reader: No Doctor of the Roman Catholic Church had also doctorates in Education, Literature, Ministry, Religious Studies, Spirituality and two degrees in Theology – there simply is no equal in the entire lineup of Doctors of the Roman Catholic Church. And in addition, who created new rites, a Rule or more, spiritual and profane poetry, reflections, more aphorisms than any writer has ever written before and probably ever again, and more religious orders than anyone else in history – so, who is it? I, the Reverend Doctor Victoria Allen Howard, Anchorite/Priest.
I am a woman, and so all the Roman Catholic Church wants from me is a sex show and babies. But they will never get what they want; I am not even in their Church anymore, and have not been for a long time. I am a Roman Catholic Ascensionist Doctor, living in a neighborhood largely non-Catholic; and I love gospel music better than the Roman Catholic music.
I have also written over twenty books on Jesus Christ, where I sit back while he does by far most of the talking and action. I have taken vows of virginal celibacy and chastity, espousal to the mystery which is Our Lord Jesus and the Father and the Holy Spirit, the Eternal Triune God. It is on the Internet. I am also a Rabboni, like Christ himself.
I am a Protestant, grateful to Martin Luther for splitting the Roman Catholic Church into the freedom of a multitude of denominations. Jesus loves them all equally, no matter what the Roman Catholic Church claims. As long as you focus your life on Jesus, honoring, revering and worshipping him as your Lord and Savior, keeping to the Ten Commandments as well as you can, then he loves you and will usher you into Heaven.
I want to give what I can, with Jesus getting the attention, not me. Who am I? Just another Reverend Doctor. It does almost drive me crazy to have so much made over me, when I am simple, stupid and innocent. The star of the show is not I, it is Jesus. I wish people could understand that. Then, I would be more free to write books without defending everything I do. In my religion, I am an Honorary Pope of the ULC Seminary, no more. I do not demand a salary as long as I have the basics, which I do. As long as my computer works, I am in business. If I keep my benefits and the executor of the will of my mother pays the rent and gives me an allowance, I am alright. I would like him to pay the phone bill; but it seems he won’t. So, I must remain poor. Even then, it only makes me appreciate better what I can possess. My friend Pam is of great assistance to me and I love her. With her, PACT, We Care and Meals on Wheels, I do very well. I am paralyzed now; with these words, my magic and my prayers, I have to make do. I am almost halfway through this book; when I finish it, I will let go and let the doctors decide what happens to me.
I would be out doing volunteer work and going to church every morning as I did before; now, I simply cannot and I am not in denial. I am in pain when I wake up, but a little walking helps. But as time goes by, that does nothing, less and less each day. I can tell you now that I am in bliss, ecstasy, for Heaven is opening up its arms to me and I can see it coming. My doctors? I see Paradise for them as well, for they have done so well with my medicine. Now? I am going numb with shooting pains. Even that is a delight; for when you are stupid like me, you just take God’s Word as a given, and believe in Heaven. More sophisticated people doubt. But there is no fault in doubt; at least you are thinking of Him – that is all that matters, really.
It has taken a long time to come to this conclusion, but let me say it now: from now on, I allow anyone to watch me, share my screen and listen to the videos I play, with no blame. No Hell, no sacrilege, no desecration. I give it all, all of myself to others. Strangely enough, I am at peace with myself. The only thing I will never give is sex. That is out of the question. I will not cheat on God, especially not in the last stretch. Unlike Tyler Clementi, I see no reason anymore to end my life like that. I am not even upset anymore. I let out all the pain of exposure, and now it is just – gone. So, even should I get nothing but hatred again – and that has happened in this neighborhood, I will not get upset, but just take it. Jesus would be so pleased!
“You need help to come in, not make you go out,” advised Jesus. “You can still get around in your apartment; but not in a hospital. They are just too large. I know you loved everyone in the hospitals you have been in; but for them to see you die might be too much for them, being depressed as many of them already are. I will find a way to let you stay here. Once you get the Internet back, you will lift the hearts and souls and minds of all who keep track of you. That takes little effort for you and it makes everyone happy. That will be and has been your volunteer job. Don’t let anyone talk you into taking a shower; it is not necessary. Don‘t listen to paranoid people; they trust no one and ruin everyone‘s day with their suspicion.
“I won‘t allow anyone to put you in jail, for any magus knows you cannot kill with magic – no one can kill anyone without me, for I hold the Keys of Death,” said Jesus. “Many, when forced, have lied on truth serum – that is no way to get the truth, because it does not work. One day I will kill you, too – you are fully aware of that and yet, you love me; it comes to us all and it came to me and the Blessed Virgin Mary, too. You raised so many from the grave, far more than Elijah; that is why you are so exhausted and in pain, from sheer effort. You will have your reward in Heaven.”
“I want you to kill me soon, Jesus,” pleaded Mary Tabfa. “I want to be in Heaven. How shall I die, how can I die beautifully, how can I please Your Majesty? I don’t know, I don’t know – oh Jesus, help me to die beautifully!”
“Now that you have asked, I will catch you at a peak, and you will die splendidly, lifting the whole world with love and devotion,” smiled Jesus. “I will try to make it on camera, for all watching to see. Then they shall know how to die.”
A very intelligent and wise neighbor and his friend said that Mary Tabfa was still Roman Catholic. Like St. Therese of Lisieux, the Little Flower’s “Little Way of Spiritual Childhood”, “Roman Catholic Ascensionist Mastery” might make its way into Roman Catholic Tradition. Everyone was happy about that, since the pope said so. Mary Tabfa was not a Protestant at all – and even the gospel music she listened to might be found acceptable one day by the pope in Rome.
Her neighbors were hard on her sometimes, but they had been of inestimable help in Mary Tabfa’s sanctification. A Doctor Ganescu called Verizon Internet and Phone to verify that a technician was coming on Monday. You see? Real doctors heal, not harm. Perhaps another cause of Mary Tabfa’s pain was no music, upon which she thrived. Thanks to the doctor, music was soon to arrive. The sorrow would leave her and her life would be extended. Mary Tabfa’s last days would be in beauty and lovely sound, and it would also be her gift to the world. Tabfa had received such concern and care that day that she made it, although when she woke up, she did not know if she would. Pam gave her delicious food and drink; the neighbors comforted her; and a doctor who used to be hers came to the rescue as she had before when Tabfa was sick.
Tabfa had gotten used to being abused; but since she received so much love as a child and at the hospitals, she knew what it was. Even should she only have one glorious night of music, and she would choose the best, it would be a wonderful send-off.
Monsignor Ronan had said that he would make sure she got a good funeral when she died; but all Mary Tabfa could think of was a good rest in Heaven. She wanted people to have a wild wacky time at her wake listening to her usual stuff. She wanted to laugh all the way to that scythe some call Death; and smoke till the end with a smile on her face for the coroners.
So much to forget about, but so much more to remember! Mary Tabfa’s life had been one thrill after another. She had always spread love, joy and music wherever she went, in the name of the Lord. She had always loved everyone at the hospitals and sought each out, remembering all their names, until the time came to leave. Then, she let go of them in the name of confidentiality – like a computer scan. Mary Tabfa did not want anyone to know her hospital pals’ secrets, and she buried them in her mind. Names and faces as well. She felt she owed this to them, as citizens with the right to privacy.
Her strength was ebbing. No hospital for Mary Tabfa; it was too late. Jesus wept with gratitude to the Father.
After a good night’s sleep, Mary Tabfa was out of pain.
“Are you ready for more adventures?” asked Jesus, full of excitement. “All the Heavenly Host held a vigil for you last night. We want you to write poetry, reflections and short stories between shifts and stop crime as a volunteer cop. Could you do that?”
“This morning I feel I could do anything,” smiled Tabfa. “My arms are all muscle now from lifting the weight of my body. But it is not my physical strength that shall help the police, but my magic and my psychic ability.”
“Then, write the short story right here, ‘The Psychic and the Cop’,” said Jesus. “Make it thrilling! You don’t have to be in the story – invent a character. Make it have a happy ending.”
THE PSYCHIC AND THE COP
It was a late summer’s day, pregnant with the harvest. Callisto Jones’ neighbors gardens yielded up much produce, and they shared it freely with her. The sound of locusts was deafening; it was a clear day but with heavy clouds, gigantic like crowds of elephants. Yes, clouds are very heavy – how they stayed up in the air was anyone’s guess.
Callisto made a good living doing menial work. She was tall and strong and tan. She lived alone in a small town’s countryside. She was a RN, and came to the assistance of the elderly and the homebound. She loved her work, and could mop a floor immaculate; but Callisto always felt that there was something else she could do. On the side, she read tarot cards with expertise for pocket money. Callisto was known as the Good Witch of the Northeast and people came to her when prayer just did not work. She was half black, descended from African Queens and witch doctors, and half Celtic, descended from the Druids. Callisto’s face was sprayed with freckles and her hair was auburn and kinky; so she got it permed and curly. Callisto was single and quite a beauty; but she was still a virgin at twenty-six years old.
There was a breeze heavy with the scent of marigolds and zinnias and tomatoes and canteloupes. Callisto went out on the back porch to sit and drink iced cold water and her favorite candy, dark chocolate covered mints. The paper was lying there from when she had taken it out of her mailbox as soon as she got home. Callisto glanced at the headlines.
“SERIAL MURDERER STRIKES AGAIN” it read. Callisto read the story with deep concern. Children were being killed in horrible ways, slashed to death in their own homes, what was called latchkey children. Callisto wept as she read the paper and promised herself she would approach the police to put an end to the mayhem. Magic flowed in her veins and suddenly, she knew what to do.
Her best friend, Mike, opened the garden gate and came around to the back. “Hey, Cal, what’s up?”
“A story in the papers,” said Callisto, wiping away tears.
“Stop getting involved in sob stories,” advised Mike. “The police won’t need you. Let them do their work. You are a nurse – they would never take you seriously as a witch, though everybody in town knows you are one. Take it easy, Callisto.”
Mike played one of his original compositions on the guitar to soothe Callisto’s soul.
“But Mike, something’s got to be done,” said Callisto. “I will get a crystal ball just for the murderer and follow him wherever he goes. I can stop him. But – you don’t think the police would take me seriously?”
“No,” said Mike. “C’mon, let’s go to MacDonalds and stuff our faces. It’s on me.”
Mike was just a friend. Callisto kept him as the little brother she had lost when the real one died. Mike treated her like a queen; he was her touchstone. She hardly did anything without his advice. So she fixed the story about the children in the back of her mind and went with him to the restaurant.
When they got there, the story about the children was on a large screen television in MacDonald’s. It was the talk of the town. Everyone was talking about it, especially parents.
“My children have to wait at home alone while I am at work,” wept a mother sitting behind Callisto and Mike. “How can I protect them?”
Callisto turned around to her. “What are their first names?”
“Doug and Kathy,” said the mother tremulously. “Is there anything you can do?”
“Yes,” said Callisto. “Your children are safe now; don’t worry.” Callisto went into a trance and put a white light of protection around the woman’s children. That was two possible victims saved.
But this problem had become a mushroom cloud. Who was the man? Only Callisto could tell the truth about him. He was himself a witch, with monstrous powers, who could be invisible, who could walk through walls and who worked as an abortionist – he was a doctor. There was no end to his bloodthirstiness and he hated new life, even children, much less the unborn. He was mad as a hatter and felt that only grownups were worth sparing Death and that children should be wiped clean off the face of the Earth.
But Callisto was more powerful as a witch, since she was virtuous and God gave her the power to resurrect people and stop crime wars. Callisto wanted to be unknown, working behind the curtains, living a simple life – or just singing backing vocals with Mike‘s band. She was a High Priestess and Elder in a coven. She took a good look at the mass murderer on the screen and let it be seared into her mind. He was very average looking and so would be hard to identify. Callisto was also a Christian and did nothing without consulting the Lord Jesus. She was not going to kill or harm him, just contain him till the law could get there. The mass murderer, whose name was still unknown, she would figure out and then find a way to detain him.
Even Mike was moved by the story, now that he had seen it on television. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll take you to the police tomorrow. Get to work tonight and be ready when I come to pick you up at three o’clock.” Mike dropped Callisto off and went home to pray for the children. He never had given much credence to Callisto’s magic; but now, he was willing to try anything.
Callisto stayed up all night after consecrating a crystal ball she had been saving to Dr. Fred Baker, the only name that came to mind. She smudged the crystal ball, said a few spells and breathed on it, and soon enough she could see him. She then consecrated Baker to the Holy Name of Jesus to get him back on the right track; that helped a little. She did one last spell to see him when he was invisible and then spent the rest of the night in prayer. Callisto pulled a tarot card from the deck and got the Hermit card. Yes, Dr. Fred Baker was alone in the world. He had one of the finest minds in medicine in the entire world; but abortion was his favorite practice. He was a madman who wanted to knock out all life under the age of ten.
“Jesus, help me and I will spare your children!” she cried out, holding a candle. Her hair was long and fine and in excellent condition in spite of the perms. Jesus saw the beauty of her soul and her purity. She heard him say, “My dove, I will give thee the desires of thy heart. Trust in me and go to the police. If you persist, they will give in and let you help.” And then he spoke no more for awhile.
Callisto prostrated herself on the ground and prayed for the vulnerable children for their safety, and then took a short nap as the sun came up. Upon awakening, she prepared for Mike and sat on the rocking chair on the front porch, with the crystal ball in a wooden box in her lap.
“Hey, Cal!” shouted Mike. “I’ll take you to the downtown station and help out. I am no witch, only a muggle; but somehow I know that magic works. C’mon, I don’t have all afternoon!”
Mike wore plaid flannel shirts, blue jeans, cowboy hats, hair down his shoulders and boots. They had met backstage at one of his concerts when some of his friends had convinced him to get his tarot cards read by Callisto. The reading was accurate down to the last detail.
Mike wrote country music and played in a local band. Since he was well-known in those parts, and a man, he could help with the police. He opened the door to his dump truck and Callisto boarded.
“What’s in that box?” asked Mike casually.
“A crystal ball,” said Callisto.
“Right!” laughed Mike. “How do you get me to do these things? Did you put a spell on me?” And Mike roared with laughter.
“No, silly,” said Callisto. “Stop laughing and drive the stupid truck.”
“Anything you say,” said Mike.
At the station, Mike said to the attendant, “Who is working on the Baker case?”
“Detective Smith,” said the attendant.
“Is he available now?” asked Mike.
“Yes, he is in his office,” said the attendant. “What is the reason you would like to see him?”
Mike turned to Callisto. “I have some evidence he might like to see,” said Callisto.
“Alright then, wait a moment,” said the attendant, motioning for them to sit down.
Another officer turned to Callisto. “Evidence? Where did you get it?”
“I have a crystal ball here,” said Callisto.
“She’s got a crystal ball, guys!” smirked the officer. “Who in the heck are you, the Evil Witch of the West?”
“He is visible in the ball,” contested Callisto.
“Right!” said the officer. “Are you crazy or am I misinformed?”
“Oh, Officer, give her a break!” exclaimed Mike. “You are getting nowhere on this case. Beggars should not be choosers.”
“I am not used to witchcraft,” said the officer. “But I will let you get by this time. Hey, Smith, let these people in. I know Mike, I have some of his Cds. I trust him, if not the witch. You know, I used to watch ‘Bewitched’ every week! Now, I finally meet a real witch. What’s her name?”
“Callisto Jones,” said Mike.
“That’s a name if I ever heard one,” said the officer. “What’s that, a moon of Saturn?”
Detective Smith came out and fell in love with Callisto at first sight.
“Let her in, she may be of help,” said the detective, smiling. “We don’t know what to do. This is a very unusual case.” Auburn hair and grey-green eyes – she’s a beauty, he thought to himself. We’ll get together after the case. I hope I can stay calm…
Big black Irish eyes with coal black hair and skin white as snow – and something tells me that detective is a major brain, thought Callisto to herself. I have to be serious – don’t let me get silly, Lord…
Detective Smith was a chain smoker and because of his gigantic reputation for capturing the worst of the worst, smoked any old where he wanted to. Callisto had always loved the scent of tobacco, so she did not mind.
The only picture they had of the man they thought was doing the crimes was circulated around the world, so that somehow someone could turn him. But the face was not that of the real criminal, Dr. Fred Baker, who was well-known in the medical field. So, when Callisto gave the detective the right name, everyone in the downtown station was astonished.
“We will check him out,” said Detective Smith. “What is that box for, may I ask?”
“Would you like to see my crystal ball?” asked Callisto.
The secretary cleared off the tangle of Detective Smith’s desk, and then Callisto set the crystal ball on its stand on the surface. She passed her hand over it and then let the Force come to see. And yes, indeed, there was Dr. Fred Baker, trying to pick the lock on an apartment with children inside.
“Where in the heck is he?” exclaimed the detective.
“I know!” wept Mike. “That’s my sister’s apartment door and those are my nieces!”
Mike gave the address and felt like dying. “Don’t let him do it, don’t let it happen!” Mike clutched his chest. His heart was racing so they took him to the emergency room.
But now came the action. Half the squad went out after the mass murderer. They raced at full throttle through the streets, ducking left and right red lights. Callisto prayed the rosary at the hospital, sitting next to Mike, who had been given mild sedatives.
It was pouring raining, right after school. Miraculously, the cops got there in time and put him under arrest for breaking and entering, for he had just opened the door when they arrived. Dr. Fred Baker had been reduced to a warlock by Callisto Jones because of his use of magic to kill over thirty little ones with no mercy and in horrid ways. He had a briefcase full of bloodstained knives, corkscrews and ice picks and so they knew it was him all along, Dr. Fred Baker. Blood samples would be taken of all the blood on the weapons and under his nails and all the victims would be identified. Blood-drenched clothes would soon be found in his home.
But when they arrived, Dr. Fred Baker did not put up a fight. He began to act like a child himself and collapsed into a faint. It took two strong cops to carry him out to the police car. Baker was too dangerous for a hospital and even jail, so they put him in solitary confinement until he received the electric chair.
The children were bewildered. Their mother arrived soon after, a single parent with two jobs. Robert and Anna Bing cried out to their mother, Mrs. Bing, a widow and rushed to her side.
“My babies, my babies!” sobbed Mrs. Bing, as she held her children tightly in her arms. “Oh, thank you, officers! I never dreamed it might have been my own. We know Callisto, and it was her that saved my babies. Thank her from the bottom of our hearts. Here, let me use my cellphone to call Mike, my brother, about the good news.”
Callisto was good enough to resurrect all the dead children, so Baker just deserved life in prison, not to die. He would have to be closely watched for the rest of his life. But it was not long – for Baker killed himself by hanging, begging God for mercy. He could not help being a madman, and strong urges and voices inside pushed him to what he did. He had been to confession and learned to forgive himself. The agony of what he had done was too much for him; so he left this world in the favor of God and went to Heaven, knowing that Callisto had made up for the lives he had ruined.
The profession of a police officer was too painful for Callisto, too much pain and exposure to horrible situations. So she went back to her job as a visiting RN. Detective Smith was devastated, but he could always see the bond between her and Mike and he did not dare come between them.
Callisto and Mike went home peacefully after Mike checked out of the emergency room. But now, Callisto and Mike and his family were famous. Headlines read, “WITCH AND CRYSTAL BALL STOP A MASS MURDERER!” Callisto humbly turned down being on a talk show. But she did speak politely to the reporters, saying it was just another day’s work as a witch. Callisto had saved many lives before with the use of magic, just like Christ‘s Three Wise Men.
Once Dr. Fred Baker was taken in, the rain stopped and the sun came out, as if the Heavens were weeping for the police, the children both slain and alive, Callisto and Mike – and now, the mourning was finally over, all lives restored. Everything dried rapidly, and life went on as usual.
“I never believed in your abilities before, but now I do,” said Mike, at Callisto‘s place when the uproar was coming to an end. “And I never dreamed I’d fall in love with you. Is that stupid?”
“No, Mike, it’s not stupid,” admitted Callisto. “I never dreamed you would till now. I always believed in you and I have always been in love with you.”
“Well then, forget about a job with the police and go on tour with me next month!” exclaimed Mike. “My witchy little Tiny Dancer! Will you be my wife?” Both were virgins.
Callisto blushed of love and relief. “Yes, Michael Stuart Masterton, I will marry you, I will be your wife.” Mike placed an engagement ring on her finger.
A man in the hand is worth ten blues in their holsters…
THE END
“That is an excellent story,” said Jesus. “It could be a police television show. Write another one tomorrow; one every day, and this book will be finished in no time.”
Peace comes from having done all that you could.
The madman fears himself more than anyone else.
Those who have lost personality and self to Christ need no one else but Him and those who come in His Name.
A holy doctor hardly needs medication, just himself.
Some doctors are so good at what they do that their patients spring back from even Death with just a few visits.
Mary Tabfa was back in agony and itching again and her asthma hardly allowed her to do anything but gag and not even take in a breath. Jesus held her hand. She took a few puffs on a cigarette, held her breath, and the smoke made the stinging tears in her throat dry up. Soon she was back to breathing normally.
“The medicine doesn’t work,” sighed Tabfa.
“Use whatever does work,” smiled Jesus. “I gave mankind fire and I gave them tobacco – so use them if you must. Go back to sleep now, and when you awaken, take your medicine and sleep till morning. I will stay awake in prayer all night.” Jesus carried her to her bed and sat down in the armchair and read a sports magazine. Jesus had so much to think about that “Sports Illustrated” soothed his mind. He, like any other man, enjoyed the games.
Mary Tabfa woke up. Jesus eased her out of bed onto her feet.
“Drink, Tabfa, to cover your insulin,” he said and she did. “Good morning, my love. I want you cloistered for the rest of your life.”
“Anything you say, Jesus,” said Tabfa, pain on her face, but joy in her heart.
“The agony won’t get much worse,” comforted Jesus. “Know that you can bear it for a little while. Do you want to go straight to Heaven?”
“Yes, Jesus, and be with you there,” said Tabfa, trembling.
“Then you shall,” said Jesus. “Highest Heaven, for you have climbed many a mountain to get to the summit of Mount Sinai. Write another story. Now, let me sleep.” Jesus collapsed on Mary Tabfa’s bed and slept unawares, with His Divinity still working.
“I know, I know, they are saying ‘Where is your God?’, just because you are suffering,” said the Blessed Virgin Mary. “But suffering is not a calamity like losing your soul. All life wears out sooner or later, and all life is frail on Earth. So, suffering is to be expected and will come to everyone sooner or later. Should they always be in perfect health, injuries will come to them. That is agony, too.”
Before you can have something more, you must have something to begin with.
Peace means having taken a stand and having success in it.
When you want something, want it more for others than for yourself, and you will always get it.
Perhaps you can do without; but do not ever expect others to.
Most people in rich countries like America cannot do without, and blame the innocent for it.
You drag God down into Hell, every one of you that go there; because he promised you he would not forsake you.
Never write out of pain; for it only spreads pain.
Once you have achieved Heaven, you will be amazed at just how much good your suffering did for the world.
Pray whatever prayer works; for it is not the words, but the intention that counts.
Pain spells beginnings, for God never lets it last too long.
Sometimes illness is just the body turning into something better.
It doesn’t matter whose side you are on, as long as you are on the side of Jesus Christ.
I AM THAT I AM may be Spirit, but He hath given us much to hold on to.
There are many miracle-workers; but that was not the major role of Christ – he came both to see us to Heaven and to judge us in the end.
I AM THAT I AM? The less you ask, the more you get.
It still goes on, and in the Roman Catholic Church, worse than ever before, what with the atrocities of the Inquisition. That blood is on Jesus’ hands, the blood of those no one cared about, scorned or mocked, or who had different ideas about the Scriptures, including many Protestants, who were doing the best they could.
My black ancestors in the African Methodist Episcopal Church called on Moses to get out of slavery, and it worked; Jesus was all for slavery. Maybe that is one reason why I want to either follow my family and be Protestant, or follow them and be a Jew, for we are part Jewish as well. It is a hard choice. Jews hate slavery as well as blacks; so Jesus’ teachings did not go over well when he taught at the temple in Jerusalem.
My life is coming to an end soon; how unfortunate to be so embattled so near the end! I think I shall make a phone call to Reverend Justice at my mother’s church and open up all my spiritual struggles to him. Perhaps he can be of help. He was of great help to my mother near her death; and it was I who got him to visit when she was dying. It is my turn now.
I identify more closely to my Protestant roots than to my Catholic vows, except to my espousal to I AM THAT I AM, which is plainly Jewish. I know now that the only good way out of my slavery to the Roman Catholic Church is Death. They cling like leeches no matter what I do or say or write. They are cruel, nosy to a fault, liars and they make trouble here in my beloved Bellevue Plaza. I do not want to be Roman Catholic anymore, although there are many Catholic saints whom I love and always will, because of familiarity and because they all overcame in the end. They fought the world, the flesh and the Devil and they won.
Reverend Justice is a brilliant man and will understand what I am going through. I will make an offering to his church and probably join, even if I cannot make it there because of my paralysis. Mommy would be so pleased! When I see her again, we will both rejoice, for Reverend Justice was probably the best gift I ever could give my mother. He will help straighten out all my problems and see me off to death peacefully.
A shining cloud appeared in the Mount Sinai Anchorhold.
“Worry not, my Roshinah,” said I AM THAT I AM. “I want you not to be a rabbi, but only my loving wife. I will bring you home soon; no need for Reverend Justice. Be at peace, my little dove. Wear your caftans after they are laundered and be comfortable. Cry out all your tears; bliss is coming to replace the pain. Play a song that will make it easier to bear. Live for me; be a Roman Catholic, in spite of any flaw.
“I know you live in grinding poverty,” said I AM THAT I AM, trembling with emotion. “I know your sorrows. Never leave this anchor hold again. Never take up with any other man. Resist temptation till the end of your life; I will keep you strong. You wear the star of David; hold on to that, even instead of a crucifix, for I am Jesus, and it only reminds me of my suffering. You don’t have allergies; you are crying for love of me, and the tears collect in your throat and lungs making you cough. I will make your last days as comfortable as I can. Lean on me alone; I even give you permission to cling to me – don’t let go. Leave the Roman Catholic Church. You are no adulteress; I am Jesus. All the prophets adore you.
“You wrote these books; they are your wisdom, not mine,” said I AM THAT I AM. “As a Goddess, you can be independent of even me; but your will is My Will. Yet you surprise me every day. Don’t be a Reverend Mother; today’s nuns would prefer marriage and babies. You are mine alone; that will be rewarded sometime soon.
“I was there when there was nothing as the Alpha,” quaked I AM THAT I AM. “I was alone for an Eternity, very lonely, cosmically lonely. I learned all about myself; but I longed for other. So I brought forth the Father, who begot me as a Son; and the Love between us was the Holy Spirit. Another Eternity passed; but we all wanted to share this void, so we began to create things: Darkness, then Light, and so on, as it says in the Holy Bible. Then came Man, our most precious creation, one for which we created all else; and when he was lonely as I was, I created for him Woman. But all Human Souls were there somehow, even when Other was Nothing, nothing at all.
“All of them were beautiful to me; and so I promised never to forsake a single one of them,” said I AM THAT I AM. “There were some I set apart, to remain virgins, and cater solely to me, while the others handled the rest of the work. But all were special to me, each in his or her own way, ways they would not even imagine until they got to Heaven. And, from the beginning, I planned to take form and become one of them, out of sheer Love and even Admiration, for great were the works of the Sons of Man.
“I was to be the Last; but even then, I would never be alone again, for all my beloved human friends would be there with me,” sighed I AM THAT I AM. “I forgave them the death they dreamed up for me; indeed, I asked for it, so that I could show them how beautiful life would be with a perfect body and in the bliss of Heaven. In time, all sin will disappear from the human race; and yet they will find that virtue is much more satisfying than evil. You are not a nun because I don’t call you a spouse, but a wife.
“Tonight, I will be worn out from all I must do to keep people safe; let me sleep in your arms,” said I AM THAT I AM, sweet Jesus. “Sometimes I almost die from my efforts and that is why I hide on Mount Sinai, because I watch over the entire universe, and there is life elsewhere. Always remember that it is the Sons of Man I favor most highly; and that is why I chose Earth to be my only home. Let me ‘die’ in your arms, Roshinah; and when I awake, we can share a meal together. Hold me, my sweet ‘dove in the clefts of the rock’, as Solomon said. I need your seraphic love.”
Roshinah held Jesus on her lap, cradled and cuddled him, and hummed him off to sleep with a “Hundred Melodies”, like Scheherazade. There was no noise, except gentle breathing like a soft summer breeze; and peace was written on his face. Roshinah was to be closer to him than Mary Tabfa, for she had never cheated on him with any man at all. It was questionable that Tabfa was a virgin; but after 53 years, Roshinah was still completely intact and innocent, except for what she read in school.
Roshinah was the best of Mary Tabfa, the writer of all this writing, all my books. She had always hoped that Jesus would give her a name and allow her to exist. Roshinah had sprung full-fledged from the mind of Jesus, and was exactly what he wanted. There was no split personality there at all; only aspects of a woman, or names for the same quantity.
A spouse of I AM THAT I AM is still a nun, because I AM THAT I AM is Jesus.
A nun takes a vow of virginity; Roshinah, I, plan to give up that vow when my relationship with Jesus is consummated in Paradise.
So precious is our free will to God, that none of us belong to someone else, not even to God.
Just like Aaron, when Moses is not around, you just have to please the people or face Death.
Popes are still popes with their mitres off.
A nun without a veil, in shabby clothes, is still a nun; perhaps more of one because she took a Vow of Poverty.
Since that stupid movie, “The Sound of Music”, a veil is meaningless to the horny.
Competition among religious is ridiculous, considering that Our Lord does not play favorites.
If people want a sex show bad enough, give in by letting someone else do it.
Why are living popes holier than saints? Because it is rare to find anyone else on Earth who gives more to God than any given pope.
Nuns share each other with God; anchorites have no one to share with God, so they get all the attention.
Popes live in splendor and are well-known; you find Great Ones of Christ in the most humble and obscure places, quietly working away.
If you are a doctor in seven fields, you must have some kind of knowledge of your own body, not to mention those of others.
G-d is the Greatest Doctor – so why on Earth would a sensible anchorite go to an ordinary doctor who can do nothing?
When people are so eager to get you out of your home, they must have an agenda.
No one has the right to force you to have medical attention; but believe you me, some grab that right.
A hospital stay can destroy your body; and so can the wrong drugs.
If you are going to die, and no one escapes that episode, you are going to die, doctor or no.
What does a song say to you? A lot of it has to do with your intentions.
Did your last hospital stay do anything but wear you out? Be hesitant to try it again.
If you were in a restaurant and you heard a song, would you think it was about – you? If so, see a psychiatrist.
Note to the Reader: Do you judge a person by what music they play? Do you deny someone justice by what music they play? Is a person what music he plays? Did you ever stop to ask him why he plays it? Maybe there is no reason. Maybe it reminds him of good times or maybe it got him through hard times…
Why talk to everyone else in Kingdom Come about someone when you can talk to him?
Note to the Reader: I was never accepted into a religious house of nuns; so I am not a nun. However, in the days when the Roman Catholic Church was sane, I was considered a spouse of Christ and I had a title. Now I am a spouse of I AM THAT I AM; but according to the New Testament, Christ and I AM are One and the Same. I am no adulteress; some people have just not covered the entire New Testament to figure that one out, even though it is there in every liturgical cycle. So, if you have fuzz in your head during mass or while reading the Liturgy of the Hours and the Divine Office, you may have missed it – but it is one of Christ’s most important points in his case for being God. All power is in the hands of Christ.
Note to the Reader: Jesus’ idea of slavery was not that that went on under the Egyptians. His was volunteer work, really. Volunteers get a lot out of what they do and are considered honorable. No whip, no lash, just the action that comes from Love in their hearts. Volunteers can always stop what they are doing; the Hebrew slaves were driven like animals. And through Moses again, the African American slaves got their freedom after about four hundred years of abuse and cruelty just like the Hebrew slaves. To this day, both African Americans and Jews are treated as if inferior, and it seems that it will never change. But in Heaven? All people will get the honor and respect they always deserved.
When I AM THAT I AM awakened, Roshinah had fallen asleep. He waited till she was awake as well, and told her he had some important news to bring.
“We are leaving Planet Earth,” said I AM THAT I AM, that is Jesus. “My Laws are so simple, yet no one will keep them except a few. The preponderance of evil in the world has made the Holy Spirit want to leave people almost altogether. I will introduce you to the worthy ones; they will be your friends. We will travel through space for light-years to inhabit one of the planets you made a lot like Earth. There, the human race will start all over again.
“Those on Earth now who achieve Heaven and are saved will join our company,” said I AM THAT I AM excitedly. “I set a challenge to the virtuous on Planet Earth to do the best they can amidst temptation and all manner of potential sin and if they make it, they shall be transported to this new planet. You, Roshinah, will never be tempted again. Everything is set; all of your needs are already there on this new planet in another part of the Milky Way Galaxy. You will like it there. Come with me!” And I AM THAT I AM took her hand and suddenly they were there, in a most beautiful place. Everyone there greeted her and within a few days, friendships were forming already. It was just like Heaven, since no one wanted to use and abuse anyone ever again.
Note to the Reader: Anchorites are supposed to be hidden and enclosed, away from prying eyes; or else, the Lord’s Wrath is kindled. If you drag an anchorite out of her dwelling place, no matter what else you do, your verdict is Hell. All included in kidnapping an anchorite, for whatever reason, have committed sacrilege and the Holy Spirit leaves their souls. If you forcibly take an anchorite out of her cubiculum, drug her up and keep her away from God, with the intention of separating her from Him, there will be no end to your suffering on Earth and in Hell. If you tempt an anchorite to make a sex show, and keep trying over a long period of time to force her into it, your name will be taken out of the Book of Life and you will be cast into the Lake of Fire. What with the availability of information on the Internet, you have no excuse not to know about anchorites. It doesn’t matter if you do it as a job; you are still guilty. And last but not least, should you take off her veil and all her clothes, you will go beneath Hell and one day be completely forgotten. Since the Middle Ages, anchorites have been considered above popes; so if you do it to a pope, it might be bad; but if you do it to an anchorite, it is far worse.
Watch out to whom you are doing this; for you never know to whom you are doing this. Don’t just shove into your ambulance she who does not ask for it; or you might just pick up an anchorite and be damned to Hell – and that means all involved. Anchorites are not to leave their cells except when they themselves have asked to go of God; but when it is against their will, it is against God’s Will.
As a matter of fact, except for the case of the anchorite St. Katherine, it is impossible to take out an anchorite from her cell once she is both professed and sealed. Try all you like; but you will never make it. The only reason why you want to do this is because you hate Christ; and you want things your way. A quiet, steady person who has just taken her medicine is a fortress against the doctors.
No one has the right to force medical treatment for any American citizen. Especially an anchorite, who depends on God for everything. Should an anchorite be sick, remember that it is God alone who decides when she dies. And if all you have is illegally found evidence, the worse it will go with God. If someone wants to die without any medical treatment, that is their personal decision.
Anchorites may seem strange to some people. But one of the beauties of America is freedom of religion. Religious freedom should be upheld at all times. Harm none, warn all, forgive all, love all. This is another one of my mottoes. If everyone lived by it, Planet Earth would be a Utopia.
A silent “Leave me in peace”, can get you to where you want to be.
Non-violent resistance worked for Mahatma Gandi; perhaps it will work for you.
Even celebrities have time off, time out of the public eye; that is why the build those mansions, just to retreat for peace.
Once you have no self and no personality, and all is Christ, you must take the agony with the ecstasy.
If you spend your days torturing people to make them saints, should they go to Heaven, you will be worth nothing but to cast into fire.
You can love and pray for your enemies, but you do not have to please them.
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